


Paris est belle mais pas aussi belle que toi

by irish_gold



Series: paris, niall, and cheese [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: ??? - Freeform, First Date, Fluff, M/M, Paris (City), Paris!AU, crack fic because i can't quite write fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-04
Updated: 2014-01-04
Packaged: 2018-01-07 09:09:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1118095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irish_gold/pseuds/irish_gold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's first date with Niall doesn't go as planned</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paris est belle mais pas aussi belle que toi

**Author's Note:**

> i wasn't going to write a sequel to this [one-shot](1041048) but because Ian asked for one i had to write it. honestly Ian can make me do anything for him. 
> 
> anyways you don't have to read the first part of this, it could be read as a stand alone but it would be nice if you did. anyways i apologise for the short-length, feed back is much appreciated. 
> 
> unbeta'd so if you do see any mistakes i apologise (and it's to late at night to go over it.)
> 
> enjoy. xxx

This isn’t how Harry imagined his first date with Niall to be like, not at all.

 

He certainly hadn’t imagined sitting in a park bench repeating words after Niall. He imagined going to watch a movie at the cinema or a fancy restaurant or even going over Niall’s to have dinner at his place, and maybe even going out and exploring more of Paris because it is the city of love or summat, but he certainly did not imagine having a lesson on how to speak French.

 

(Not to say he imagined his first date with Niall either. Ok well maybe he had but that is only for _him_ to know, not anyone else and certainly not Niall.)

 

Anyways he wasn’t too keen on learning a new language; he failed French three times in a row.

 

He’d rather be doing other things with Niall right now, like, getting to know him, or…  _Kissing him._

 

It’s not that Harry’s  _bad_ when it comes to learning a new language, but he’s certainly not the best either. He’s sat on the bench in front of Niall trying to find a reply to Niall’s question (he doesn’t even remember what Niall asked him anymore.)

 

‘C’mon Haz, you’ve learned this already. How do you reply to someone when they ask you ‘quelle est la date’?’ Niall asked him looking at Harry amusedly.

 

Harry sighs, ‘See I would probably be able to answer that if I at least had some idea what you were asking me—I give up! I don’t want to learn French, it’s too hard and I don’t have a knack, like you do, for picking up languages easily.’ He says, ‘Can we just go back to talking about something else, I’m good at that.’

 

Niall chuckles, ‘It’s not that hard you baby, by the way I was asking what date it is, and you’re not that bad at it you just… Have a little more difficulty picking it up than most.’ Harry shakes his head and pulls Niall closer to him, closing any space they had in between each other. (which wasn’t much.)

 

‘Thank for making me feel so much better Ni,’ Harry says drily, ‘you sure know how to make me feel less stupid.’

 

‘I never said you were stupid I just said you—‘ Harry cuts him off.

 

‘Yeah, yeah I heard you the first time. Now stop talking and kiss me, I’m dying here.’

 

‘What a diva.’

 

Harry pouts at him, ‘I’m not a diva, I just rather be doing something else with you. It is our first date.’ He mutters, he feels Niall shrug under him and say, ‘You’re right, I suppose.’

 

Harry nods his head enthusiastically and starts getting up from the bench, not moving his arm from where its wrapped around Niall’s shoulder, he starts walking towards the exit of the park determined to get Niall’s mind away from teaching him French.

 

‘But,’ Niall says stopping in the middle of the path, ‘before we go I’d like to know how you managed to live in Paris for six months and not know a single word in French.’

 

_

 

He ends up taking Niall back to his flat because even though he’s lived in Paris for half a year he has no idea where to find a decent restaurant, and he’s also hoping to woo Niall with his awesome cooking skills. (He spent two weeks’ worth of his paycheque on vegetables and ingredients to make a dish at least semi-decent.)

 

On their trek to Harry’s flat they both engage themselves in a heated argument about which cheese is the best.

 

(‘Langres cheese is the best, no doubt about it.’ ‘No Niall it’s not, Bleu des caussess taste better.’ ‘That cheese taste disgusting how can you like it?’ ‘How can you not?!’)

 

In the end they come to a truce, both cheese taste good and they’re equally great as the other.

 

‘Langres cheese still taste better.’ He hears Niall mutter under his breath. He rolls his eyes because  _we’re fighting about cheese. Seriously cheese?_

 

Instead of replying he takes out his keys from his coat pocket and goes to unlock the door to the front of the complex, and holds it open for Niall. He walks after him pulling him by his wrists to the staircase right beside the small and awfully smelling lift.

 

‘You don’t want to take the lift; it’s cramped and smells bad.’ Harry tells him after he notices Niall’s questioning gaze. They make it to Harry’s flat in record time, Niall waits behind Harry as he jiggles the key into the keyhole and then forcefully pushes the door open.

 

‘I live in a shoddy flat.’ He explains.

 

Niall shrugs, ‘It’s fine, I’ve seen worse.’ He walks into the flat and closely scrutinises the area.

 

Harry closes the door and shuffles awkwardly to Niall’s side, blushing he says, ‘Sorry about the mess, living with Louis means I either have to clean after him or live in complete and utter mess, I’m a bit too lazy to clean after that slag.’ Niall sniggers.

 

Harry smiles and says, ‘Now, what would you like to eat?’

 

They both decide on a traditional Sunday Roast because Harry’s proper  _English_ which means he’s ‘posh’ or at least that’s what Niall says. ‘You’re from Cheshire and from what I’ve heard that’s a pretty classy county.’ Niall says after Harry claims he isn’t posh.

 

‘Whatever just make yourself useful and start cutting up the vegetables.’

 

_

 

After they finish eating and somewhat clean the mess they made in the kitchen they settle down on Harry’s bed with cuppas on the bedside table.

 

 

‘Have you fallen in love with this country Harry? Have you fallen for it?’ Niall asks later that evening. His face is hidden at the crook of Harry’s neck. He blows at Harry’s heated skin and asks him again, ‘Have you fallen for it, as I have?’ Harry’s silent. Doesn’t say anything but pulls at Niall’s hand, wrapping his two fingers around Niall’s wrist.

 

‘I’ve fallen more for the blond beside me than I have for the country.’ He says quietly. He presses his lips on Niall’s hand, light pecks, his lips barely brushing the pale skin.

 

Niall’s quiet beside him. He’s been like that for the last few days, not saying much but saying enough for Harry to know that Niall’s  _all right._ He doesn’t worry about Niall’s sudden quietness, ‘Is that so?’ Harry hums before turning to look at Niall. His eyes were closed and his head was half buried in the pillow he’d declared his when he first laid down on it.

 

‘It is. You know, he’s quite the sight. Has pretty blue eyes and really soft fake blond hair.’ He hears Niall’s muffled scoff and grins, then continues to say, ‘He has a nice smile too, pretty white teeth. And really,  _really_ nice lips.’ He watches as Niall’s cheeks turn a rosy colour. He can see the light blush in the dimmed lighting.

 

‘Seems like a nice bloke.’

 

‘He is and you know; I quite like him too.’ Harry says.

 

Niall opens his eyes, blinks twice and waits for his eyes to get accustomed to the lighting; he stares up at Harry biting down at his bottom lip keeping himself from saying something Harry would surely tease him about later. ‘I quite like you too.’

 

He says it so quietly Harry thinks he’s imagined it, but the smile on Niall’s face tells him otherwise.

 

‘So it’s mutual then.’

 

‘I guess it is.’

 

_

 


End file.
